


How early is too early to drink?

by jalapeno_jazz



Series: Madame Minister [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 01:25:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17736386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jalapeno_jazz/pseuds/jalapeno_jazz
Summary: Monday morning staff meetings are just the worst.





	How early is too early to drink?

**Author's Note:**

> Sadly, everyone's favorite blond doesn't appear in this one. (He can't be everywhere!) But no worries, he'll be back soon.
> 
> Oh...and my beta? She's the best! Thanks LaBelladoneX.

7:48am - Conference room adjacent to the Minister for Magic’s office

Hermione took a deep cleansing breath and slowly counted backwards from ten. _It’s too early for this_ , she thought as she waited for the person speaking to finish. She knew her patience ran short in the best of times, so she tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. But fuck it all… she was the Minister, for Merlin’s sake! If anyone thought she needed to be lectured to, and in front of her senior staff no less? She was definitely going to have a word with Robards about who filled in for him at these meetings when he returned from vacation.

Everyone else at the table knew how she worked and how her meetings were run; they ran with precision and clockwork. And this wasn’t it. Get in, give your report and get out. No one had time to waste. They were all busy.

As she glanced around the room, the facial expressions ranged from bored (the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation) to concerned (Percy Weasley). The Senior Undersecretary continued his futile effort to catch the speaker’s attention, trying to give the hint that he needed to wrap up his remarks - his facial expressions trying to convey what his words would far more accurately. They should have moved on some time ago. And Harry? That rat bastard had the smallest of smiles on his face, knowing full well that Hermione was already livid. He was probably just waiting to see what would happen next.

Hermione cleared her throat, signaling that it was time to move the meeting along. Percy jumped up, attempting once again to regain control of the meeting, and thanking the speaker for his contribution. However, for some strange reason, the speaker _still_ didn’t get the hint. _This_ was why she had no tolerance for the Department of Magical Games and Sports; they clearly thought themselves far more important than they actually were. If they had been hosting the Quidditch World Cup that year, perhaps… but even then, it was Robards’ job to handle the affairs of his department and keep things running smoothly. Frankly, she neither wanted nor needed to hear all the ins and outs of the department.

She glanced down at the agenda in front of her, the timeline clearly shot to hell. “Thank you, Mr. McLaggen. Let’s move along.”

While she considered herself ready for most anything, Hermione was definitely not prepared for what came next.

“Uh… just one more thing, Hermione…” McLaggen continued on, as if it hadn’t been crystal clear to everyone in the room that he’d already expended his allotted time.

At the mention of her given name, Hermione’s eyebrows shot straight into the air with a look of incredulity. She heard Percy’s swift intake of air and the sounds of two of the Department Heads, as they slightly pushed their chairs away from the table. Several seats down from her, Harry had either chuckled or cleared his throat.

Perhaps she should have counted backwards from twenty? Maybe _then_ she would have been more tolerant. But, no; once again, she had to stare down those still saddled with their innate chauvinist tendencies and explain what should have already been understood. She knew that McLaggen wouldn’t have referred to the Minister by his first name if he’d been a man, even if it was someone he was friendly with — and she and McLaggen were far from friendly. And what’s worse was that he knew that, too. He had been a constant thorn in her side since that regretful decision in sixth year. They were not friends and never had been. One ancient, clandestine and ill-advised snog did not give one license to call the Minister for Magic by her given name. Heck, even Harry would never do that in public at the office — and he was practically her brother!

Hermione quickly sat up in her chair and leaned against the table, looking directly at the man standing at the other end of the table, wondering just how bad it would be if she hexed him right now. Just a small hex - nothing too damaging. 

“I’m sorry, _Mr. McLaggen_ , perhaps you misunderstood me. I thanked you for your report. Now, we really do need to be moving on. Weasley, would you please see him to the door?”

McLaggen’s shoulders slumped as he quickly gathered his parchment. “My apologies, Minister,” he mumbled in a dejected tone, realising he had stepped way over the line.

Hermione gave a small nod in acknowledgement. He would get no more than that from her today. She took a deep breath and turned back to the agenda. “Now, who’s got the next report?

“Uh...that’d be me, _Minister_ , but seeing as though we are almost out of time, I’m happy to defer. There’s nothing urgent,” Harry said with an impish grin.

 

But, of course. It was going to be one of those days. Hermione rubbed her temples. Forget the tea - it was looking like a good day for a double espresso.

 


End file.
